Ghost Tear

Just so you know, it sucks being dead. Even if you’re a ghost.
But I’d come back to life twice. Smith had warned me, had
told me that there were rules, even for angels.
I’m fourteen. I’m still getting acquainted with rules.
Because, as I had recently discovered, when you’re fourteen,
you think you’ll live forever. That bullets won’t hurt you,
that helicopters can explode over you and you’ll be okay.
You won’t.